


The Broken Doll

by notmyyacht



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Feelings Realization, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 00:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14726490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmyyacht/pseuds/notmyyacht
Summary: There was an Earth saying that you never truly know how you feel about someone until they’re gone. It would take several centuries before the Grandmaster finally understood what that meant.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> [ Inspired by gogiweydes's beautiful art!](https://gogiweydes.tumblr.com/post/173587928330/do-not-ask-me-this-is-something-strange-and-fast)  
>  So I wrote each chapter on separate occasions, but both at about 4 in the morning after being hit with The Feels after seeing the beautiful fanart by gogiweydes on tumblr. Just a lil cathartic frostmaster piece dealing with Infinity War. Hope y'all like it =D

There was an Earth saying that you never truly know how you feel about someone until they’re gone. A mortal lover once told the Grandmaster that and while the Grandmaster felt no remorse when he had that lover melted for trying to assassinate him, for some reason that saying always stayed with him.

It would take several centuries before he finally understood what it meant.

The Grandmaster never considered himself particularly sentimental when it came to lovers, but once in a while he found he liked one a little too much. Something would always change his mind about them. Most of the time they would try to kill him or leave Sakaar and, well, the Grandmaster couldn’t have that.

And then there was Loki.

Scrapper-142 always brought him the best things and Loki was no exception.

“He put up a fight before I got the obedience disc on him,” Scrapper-142 had said, looking down at seething creature lying at the Grandmaster’s feet. “He could make a good contender.”

The Grandmaster thanked her and paid her and when she sauntered off to spend it all on booze, he bent down and cupped the creature’s chin in his hand, forcing him to look the Grandmaster in the eye. And _oh,_ what beautiful greenish-blue eyes this new toy had!

“What’s your name, bright eyes?”

Those eyes narrowed, the gears behind them turning, understanding. The rage he had shot at Scrapper-142 vanished with a simple blink.

“Loki.”

“Loki, Lo-lo- _Loki_ ,” the Grandmaster sang, dragging the last vowel out. Oh yes, he liked that.

What a pretty doll, this Loki. Far too pretty to get roughed up in the ring. No, the Grandmaster wanted to keep him where he can be looked at and appreciated.

The Grandmaster had his doll ditch the black and green for gold and blue. Behind those pretty eyes was something darker and melancholy. The Grandmaster attempted to blot it out with bright colors and music. Loki would grin; Loki was a good liar and he knew how to kiss up to him in all the right ways. Not that he really needed to, he was the Grandmaster’s favorite. They would talk and play games from all over the cosmos. The Grandmaster would flirt, Loki would flirt back. The Grandmaster would come on to him, Loki would slip out of his grasp.

It was a game. A game the Grandmaster was thoroughly enjoying. It had been a while since a potential lover made him work for it. Loki would get close, perhaps even brush his lips against the Grandmaster’s, then pull away when the Grandmaster attempted to kiss him. When they danced, Loki would allow the Grandmaster to bring him close so their bodies were flush against each other, only to slide out of his reach if the Grandmaster got too handsy.

The Grandmaster was millions of years old, he could be patient.

At last, the teasing came to an end in the most unexpected of ways.

Loki had found a space by a window to himself, away from all the other sycophants; he leaned against the wall and looked out at the city, silently nursing a martini, completely lost in his own thoughts. His eyes would occasionally flicker to the portals in the night sky, as if looking for something to emerge.

The Grandmaster watched him for the longest time, almost worried to disturb such a serene image. He did anyway; softly sliding up to his left. Loki doesn’t startle, the Grandmaster had learned early on that it’s not easy to sneak up on him. Such a fascinating being that had fallen to his planet.

“What is it that draws your, uh, attention away from Sakaar?” he asked.

Loki turned his attention away from the window and flashed that dazzling grin that made the Grandmaster want to smile with him.

“Nothing important, Grandmaster.”

“Then why do you keep looking away from me?”

Loki swallowed and locked his gaze with the Grandmaster’s.

“Before I came to Sakaar… I left much behind. Not just physically, but emotionally. I was grieving when I arrived here. My… _father_ had died only moments before; my relationship with him was complicated and he died without much closure between us. And I am fairly certain that I’ve also lost my brother by now. When you took me in, I had hoped that perhaps I could leave my grief behind, far away from here. That I could leave it all behind.” Loki fidgeted with the glass in his hand and frowned. “Instead my grief continues to make routine returns.” His jaw clenched and his brow furrowed once again in deep thought; he downed the last of his drink.

“I think that’s the most open you have ever been with me,” said the Grandmaster, his chest swelling with something he didn’t recognize; it was warm and it tickled. “Some things are better left in the past so you can live in the here, and the now.”

Behind those beautiful bright eyes, something burst and Loki shuddered slightly.

“Help me live in the present,” he said.

The Grandmaster grinned and ran an index finger along Loki’s jawline.

“Welcome home,” the Grandmaster hummed, leaning in slightly. To his pleasant surprise, Loki met his lips halfway. There was no teasing, this time, no pulling away. It wasn’t a game anymore.

The following weeks were a blur of joy, sex, and more of that tickling in the Grandmaster’s chest.

Although he hadn’t realized it at the time, the moment Lord of Thunder had been brought by Scrapper-142 in it had all come to a screeching halt.

In a matter of days, the Grandmaster lost everything: his champion, the authority over the people, his favorite scrapper, his right-hand woman, and, most importantly, he had lost Loki.

It wasn’t until he found out that Loki was gone that the fond tickling in the Grandmaster’s chest flared into a searing burn.

How odd.

Hours without Loki in his sights turned into days. The burning became a dull ache. If the Grandmaster had felt this before, it had been over millennia ago.

He sat in his home, surrounded by his sycophants and flatterers. The power balance of Sakaar had once again tipped back to the Grandmaster’s favor. Somehow none of it seemed to matter much anymore.

How inconvenient that he couldn’t even talk about his feelings with Topaz anymore, not that he ever really did. He would have about this. Or maybe he wouldn’t.

The Grandmaster idly brought his finger down on one of the keys as the music played and synthesized around him. He bit the inside of his cheek and thought of that Earth saying.

Huh. He really liked Loki, didn’t he? What’s worse was that he _missed_ him. The Grandmaster hadn’t missed anyone in centuries. His lips spread into a smile, his mind made up.

“Prepare my ship!” he ordered.

He went with only one servant to pilot his ship; he was too jumpy to fly the ship himself, or else he would have gone alone. Any other form of company wasn’t needed. He just needed Loki. The Grandmaster could forgive everything. Topaz’s death? Wasn’t his fault. Taking away his beloved champion? There will always be stronger, fresher champions. Helping Thor escape? Brothers will be brothers, complicated or not.

And if Loki said no, then… okay, he hadn’t thought that far ahead, but Loki liked him too, didn’t he? Of course he did! If he doesn’t want to go back to Sakaar, then that’s fine. The universe is a big place. They could start anew. It had been a while since the Grandmaster had seen anything beyond Sakaar. Perhaps Loki could show him…

All of the Grandmaster’s ships had trackers placed on them. Just to make sure if one had been stolen, then they would be found fairly quickly (and consequentially melt the thief). Finding the Statesman was no exception.

Except, when the Grandmaster arrived in the space the tracker was, there was no ship. Only debris and frozen, dead bodies floated where the Statesman should be. The Grandmaster stared at the wreckage and let out a soft, “Oh.”

He examined one body at a time, hoping he would not find Loki’s.

Most of the people here he did not recognize, though once in a while he would find a familiar face. Korg, Miek, a few scattered former contenders, even Scrapper-142. There was no Hulk or Lord of Thunder.

Loki must have escaped with them, instead of the others. Yes! He was safe with his adopted brother and the Champion of Sakaar. All the Grandmaster needed to do was find them and…

And then he spotted one final body floating near the edge of the wreckage. The Grandmaster numbly brought it onboard.

Loki’s skin was a hue of blue, his partially opened eyes a blood red that stared into nothing. The Grandmaster recognized the look from that one time Loki let him see. It had been so brief, for Loki seemed ashamed to be gawked at, but the Grandmaster had memorized the look all the same. He had thought it beautiful, and had said so, but Loki had no control over it and when the Grandmaster had drawn his hand back, the spell returned to cover his skin.

Death and the cold, frozen vacuum of space, it seemed, brought the color back to Loki’s body. It was a lifeless color.

The Grandmaster bent, kneeled over the body, gently brushing his fingers against Loki’s cheek. The gesture turned Loki’s head far too easily and the Grandmaster finally noticed the dark bruises around Loki’s crushed neck.

The dull ache in the Grandmaster’s chest did a sickened flip before once again igniting. His jaw clenched and fury pricked his skin. He got to his feet and stood with his back straight and his fists clenched.

Someone had broken the Grandmaster’s favorite doll and they were going to pay.


	2. Part Two

Thanos hadn’t killed the Collector. No, Tivan was far too powerful to kill. He had, however, drove him out of Knowhere. A feat not easy. All it took was a little… _persuasio_ n and Tivan left him the reality stone without protest. Tivan could find someplace new and rebuild his collection. Thanos had promised him that he would not destroy an entire race when the time came, only half of every race. His plan was not to destroy everything, just to cut the fat so those remaining could flourish.

The Elders of the Universe were not petty creatures. They made no sentimental ties, no long-term vendettas against those who wronged them. They understood better than most how fleeting life was. Thanos could respect that.

At least, most Elders understood.

The sunrise was the most beautiful thing Thanos had ever witnessed. He had done what he had set out to do and he had his sunrise at last.

“My, uh, pilot turned to ash on my way here.”

Thanos turned his head and saw an Elder standing there in bright, shimmering colors with his head held high. A name could not be placed for which Elder this was. Tivan had been the first Elder he had encountered in centuries.

He raised the distorted gauntlet.

“I have accomplished my mission,” he said.

The Elder frowned.

“Is it supposed to be bent like that?”

Thanos softly chuckled and looked it over. “A small price to pay. The gauntlet is still functional, if not a little worn.”

The Elder locked eyes with Thanos and asked, “What other price has your… your mission paid?”

“The highest price.” Thanos would not name his adopted daughter. The Elder would never have been able to make the sacrifices Thanos had; he would not understand.

The Elder approached him and sat beside him on the soft grass.

“Was it worth it?” he asked.

Thanos looked out at the sunrise. The mix of the orange, yellow, and the hint of blue danced across the sky. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“Yes,” he said.

The Elder did not look at the sunrise; he kept his gaze fixed on Thanos.

“And what of the sacrifices that were not yours to make?” something dark lingered under the Elder’s words. The corner of Thanos’ mouth turned upward, amused.

“What other acquaintance of yours did I kill?”

“Oh, nobody special to you, I’d imagine. I liked him though. He was… He was beautiful. Quite the trickster. I really rather liked him. I would have liked to keep him around for a few, uh, thousand years at the very least. I was on my way to tell him so when I found him floating on some, um, some space debris.”

So the Elder knew Loki. That’s quite an interesting pair.

“That treacherous snake had failed and betrayed me far too many times. I only owed him a painful death,” said Thanos conversationally. He turned to the Elder with a smile. “Forgive me, I did not ask your name.”

The Elder stood and from out of a pocket dimension, summoned to his hand a long stick with a gold orb on the end. His face was cold and he eyed Thanos like something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“I did not offer it,” he said, tightening his grip on the staff.

Thanos chuckled.

“Whatever you think you will do to me, I assure you that bastard Odinson is not worth it. I did the universe a favor by squeezing the life from his body.”

A smile played at the Elder’s mouth.

“What makes you think I care about the rest of the universe? I never did introduce myself; I am the Grandmaster. I, uh, I like games. I used to run this little competition called the Contest of Champions. Yes, you would have made a good contender.” The smile faded. “I never put Loki in the ring though. He was _far_ too pretty to be marred or maimed. He kinda grew on me.” He pointedly raised a single index finger with his free hand. “ _That._ That wasn’t a game.”

The Grandmaster was staring mindlessly into the grass, as if the next thing he wanted to say was hidden there. Unable to find it, he shrugged and turned back to Thanos.

Thanos narrowed his tired eyes. He had hoped with his goal complete he could rest; a fight with an Elder of the Universe wasn’t something he cared for, especially if the fight was over the death of a pitiful worm like Loki. He frowned.

“What do you want from me? I’m not going to-”

“Oh, I don’t want anything from you, per se,” the Grandmaster interrupted. “I just came to tell you that you shouldn’t have crushed my lover’s throat.”

Thanos sneered and opened his mouth to reply, when the Grandmaster at last made a move and touched the golden orb of his staff to Thanos’ shoulder. Immediately Thanos could feel the pain as the flesh melted from the inside. He screamed and tried to command the Infinity Gauntlet to do his will and reverse this, to destroy the Grandmaster.

But it was too late. In less than ten seconds, Thanos was nothing more than a puddle of steaming purple goo in the grass. The Grandmaster wrinkled his nose at the smell and took a step back, albeit basking in the thrill of the life he had just taken. He looked out at the horizon as he waited for what used to be Thanos to cool. Morning executions surely were the best.

Finally, the Grandmaster turned to the mess and shoved the end of the melt stick into the opening of the Infinity Gauntlet; he gave it a quick shake to remove an excess goop, then brought it close. He smiled and put the gauntlet onto his left hand. Immediately, the glove shrunk to fit perfectly and the stones all glowed, ready to serve their new master.

The Grandmaster returned to his ship had he landed a few hills away. Inside it was quiet. The remaining ashes of his pilot still sat in the cockpit. Off to the side, on a blanket lay Loki’s body. The Grandmaster paid his pilot no mind, nor the rest of the universe. He kneeled over Loki and brought his gloved hand to hover over the body.

The Time Stone glowed green –how appropriate- and the Grandmaster could hear an unsavory pop and crackle as the bones in Loki’s neck came back together. The blood that had run from Loki’s eyes retracted, the bruises around his neck vanished, color returned to his cheeks. His skin returned to the pale peach Loki had preferred.

Green-blue eyes shot open, wide and terrified, as Loki sharply inhaled a breath of life. Those eyes searched aimlessly for a moment before landing on the Grandmaster’s smiling face. The fear faded and relief replaced it.

Relief, and also something else. The Grandmaster hoped it was affection, but it was always hard to tell with Loki. That’s what made him fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the story: Don't touch the Grandmaster's stuff.


End file.
